The Contender
by Pseudogram
Summary: They came to abduct the chosen gladiator, not knowing the Trojan Horse they really reeled in.
1. Chapter 1

Some say fear is funny. Some say fear inspires. Not me. Fear does me nothing. I think of myself a free man. Fear is my greatest enemy.

They can't incarcerate a free man. Even the people say it. "Free Gerry." Even after twenty years. Now, finally, the court was convinced. My life sentence gets suspended. Sure they find me innocent. Surely there are new facts that change the light on my statement. And after twenty years, does it even matter whether I enjoyed doing what I did?

"Know thy enemy", they say. I learned to know fear like no other. How it captivates, how it paralyzes. How it heightens the senses. How it enables. Fear misleads and fear guides. Fear separates and fear unites. And I do not fear my reentry.

And who does not fear is so easily mistaken for being trustworthy.

I never feared this day, I fear for this day. Only I know the historic day it is going to be. And I will be the culprit. Of course it is in no-ones plan. Today will be the day to end all plans. Today I will serve chaos. That's true nature. That's beauty.

Today is my dying day. My swan song will be remembered long after my death. More than I served in prison. More than a life time.

The first streaks of sunlight of the day energize me, as I meditate on what's to come. I'm in a fortress on wheels. It could get me anywhere I want if I'm quick. First, these cuffs... Then, this car...  
The procedure, as I'm told, is that I get a bunch of money for having been in jail so long. First, I will be rehabilitated. So, I would be taken there, and before I'm transferred, since it's a long drive, now I'm still cuffed, they will first escort me to an armored truck.

Of course, violence is in my skill set.


	2. Chapter 2

Of course, when we arrive at the secret extraction location, I ask to be helped out of the car so that I have a moment, a very short moment alone.

I have seconds, and right when the door slams, I lunge forward, crawl over to the driver seat. After all, I am a free man.

They don't see me wrestle in the car. I lock the doors and windows and wait. There is nothing behind me. I put the car in reverse.

The fat driver feels the door, then taps the front window, angry. I open it.

To my surprise and advantage the man reaches inside. I look at his wrist, his watch, and quickly wrap the chain of my cuffed wrists around his. Then I punch the gas, and watch as the world around me skids forward, and the fat man having his arm pulled, losing his balance, and fall out of my sight.

I hear the sound of complete confusion and human indignity. I hear the man's wrist respond to the forces of nature. Not used to having to carry his own weight, let alone dragging it with more than one G.

My wrists hurt. I get out of the car.

The man is clearly hurt and afraid. I find the key to my cuffs, he also has a stun gun.

Time for action.

Still nothing behind me.

I undo my cuffs. I bring the fat man to his feet. He will be my human shield. I pull him on to the drivers seat and ready the car. I now take the pump-action rifle from its mount, like these cars have.

I get back in the car, and wait, seated behind the driver.

I see the armed team approach, yelling, pointing their weapons. I know they won't shoot their colleague. They all seem to have exited the truck now. Four isn't that much. I wonder whether they can see me. Then again, it won't matter.

I point the stun gun at the fat man's leg, and fire it. His muscles contract, his foot punches the gas pedal, and the car races forward.  
They don't shoot. I do. They can't outrun me now I've let them approach.

We crash into the armored vehicle. I shoot the gun some more. I look around from all sides of the car, and see the bodies scattered.  
I exit the car which starts to smell like fried ham and burned hair.

I need to murder every witness, so I execute them one by one. I want to take my time, but, this is my dying day, and compared to the eternity in hell ahead, I have too little time, and too much to do.


	3. Chapter 3

I would like to surprise the masses. Of course they're waiting at a location I would normally not pass, since I'm not supposed to be introduced to society yet, there's an alternative route, away from my supporters and fans waiting along the expected route. To be honest, they're just activists, burdened with the dilemma between egocentricity and morality. I would go there to officially begin my special day.

I'm lucky enough that nobody knows I've broken free. I drive the road to civilization.

After having ventured beyond where I assume the horizon ends several times, I see a roadblock up ahead.

Well. I got bored anyway at this point. I have every reason to assume it's no ordinary checkpoint, but that would be superstition, and needless. I'm prepared for them. I will just ram them and enjoy the ride as long as it lasts. Although the frenzy begins sooner, that doesn't mean it has to end sooner.

They're not the only sign of civilization I'm heading closer at, I can see the city outskirts and the highway looming as well in the morning sun.

I lean out the window and push the pedal further. I aim and send a spray of pellets into the blockade.

Looks like one of them is wounded. I aim and fire again, when a second one tries to carry the victim to safety, where the rest of the crew is readying their weapons. The two of them now stop and lay there.

I can shoot one more time to confirm they're not just playing dead. Or, to punish them if they think they can trick me.  
I don't know whether I was too distracted by the thought of killing, or didn't mind putting myself at risk, when I should have braced for impact instead.

I hit them quick enough for them not to have prepared for a shootout.

Whatever it is they send flying after me, bullets or their bruised cars, I won't stop for a couple of hours.


	4. Chapter 4

I don't see them chase after me. Even when I'm on the highway, there is no sign of police.

There isn't much traffic too, which means not so many people recognize me, notice my behind the steer of an armored police truck with cosmetic damage.

I listen to the radio. I pick up the government frequency. Not 15 minutes have passed since I bustled through the blockade. Drama should unfold any second; even helicopters are coming.

I realize two cars have pulled behind me for some while... Men in shades. Possibly federal agents looking for a moment to surprise me and take over. They're always awake and could be anywhere, so it's plausible they're the quickest to respond.  
I take the gamble and drive slower. I will make them realize they're the wrong people at the wrong time and place.

Just as I expect, they also adjust their speed. I drive to the side of the road. If they're after me, they can try to maneuver me to a halt.

Then it dawned to me. They're not going to risk their lives as long as I'm not showing hostility. If I don't make any victims, they're also not going to victimize me. Also, the only safe way for them to get me is to shoot me while I'm not paying attention. And my windows are bullet proof.

I lower the window and look ahead of me.

Now, one of the cars is starting to drive up to me.

I want to do this right. Subtly I accelerate and roll my window up to an angle that it catches most bullets. Now the maneuver has to be interrupted. Indeed, to my hopes, the driver accelerates, as if to overtake.

I jerk the steering wheel and ram the car, pushing it all the way to the other side of the road. The driver brakes, but I'm dragging him along. The car slams hard enough into the guardrail for the driver to go tossed around like a ball on a roulette wheel.

The other car is still behind me, at a safer distance.

I throw the steering wheel back and kick my door open to push the car off which was still pulling on my truck, and watch it aimlessly rolling. I cower to get the right angle to shoot, but I can't see being too high up. I land several bullets in the car roof.

I must approach from the other side. I slow down and get behind the car, then I push the car and accelerate. I release the gas, and watch amused as the car pushes ahead.

Then I move to the side where I can actually see what I'm doing. The unconscious driver is leaning against the window.  
My shot destroys the mans skull, and he must have been pumped with adrenaline, because his blood is flowing generously and the way the window shattered, his head fell so that the fluids are gushing out of the car.

Apparently, it also somehow managed to get him to push the gas pedal, I notice as a rarely seen high amount of blood leaves a trail behind on the highway ahead.

I look into my rear view mirror and see my next target, sheet-white. What can I say? Secret agents are human too.

Good thing to see him afraid, it gets the adrenaline going and the blood pumping vividly.

I punch the breaks. I intend to fully exploit and improve whatever tactical advantages as long as I have them, so, my plan is to rinse and repeat. Or, _improvise._

I can't be far from my destination.


	5. Chapter 5

We both stop walking.

"Enjoying yourself?"

It's been a while since I had this emotion. So much that I was baffled about being baffled. I hesitate, my finger is tensed around the trigger. I can almost hear the rifle shiver.

"Today is a special day for all of us."

There is no tremble, no fear in the man's voice. The sound is different from what I am used to hearing. I don't hear a fit of despair. I hear indifference, and determination. When I shoot... Where do I shoot? When do I shoot? When I shoot... I will... I must... Why...

"And you know why? We had a surprise for you in store. Good thing you're one step ahead and took matters into your own hands."

Why did he surrender? Why did he step out the car with his hands up? The world around me has reduced to a blur. I try to focus. All there is is the sun and the man on the highway bridge.  
"You are free today, because we need you. The plan was to tell you everything. Over a cup of coffee. Or a cold beer. Or right here. What do you say? It's not too late."

He's not lying. I lower my weapon slowly. I must think.

"There's a problem we're faced with for some time... We've been looking for someone suitable to fix it. There's someone very special who'd like to meet you. Chances are you and... him have a lot in common."

I am good at one thing. Decision making. My head clears up, and along with all my doubts I try to erase the bold person in front of me. I raise my weapon.

Where I shoot, a gap is now in place. Not so much one that a rifle creates, the concrete is tearing up. The man is swallowed in rubble and dust.


	6. Chapter 6

A pit of destruction is forming at my feet, and see the car disappear into it. Once more, I feel a rare sensation I had given up long ago. I feel a nauseating sense of insignificance. It was if some divine entity had come to purge me.

When the body of the man I just intended to destroy rises up from the rumbling depths, being torn into bits, I realize I am a long way from salvation.

When I realize I had been frozen solid in my place, it was like time travel finding myself back in my vehicle, praying, looking into my rear view mirror to see the distance from what I was running from wasn't big enough for my taste.

I punish my leg for not being able to push the gas pedal further by pushing harder.

Something has woken up in me. I find myself running. I am not scared, I am intrigued. I keep staring at the site and measuring the distance, but I only feel that the farther away I get, the closer am I pulled into another fate.

More so, when once more the bridge erupts, and what can only be described as a flying soldier emerges from the hole, propelled with some type of engine in a backpack. The longer I look, the less I understand what I see.

Subconsciously I rule out the possibility of the nature of the threat. I go through a whole range of emotions I never knew I had, when what were once wild childhood dreams fade when reality gives you a nightmare. I try to suppress the thought of having to explain something I feel can only be supernatural.

I notice how controlled and insect like the figure moves fluently through the air. I come to my senses finally when the less familiar sensations take place for jealousy. Also, worry, because I feel at all.

Then I am ecstatic when the now stable hovering creature looks in my direction. I know how the hunt feels, so, both embarrassed and honored, I conclude that today would not be significant because of me.

I will be just one of many who will namelessly wither. Even my squabble this morning will be forgotten in mere minutes.

A blinding flash jumps from my pursuiter, and only bliss remains. Then, electricity.

I burn.

I am transparent.


	7. Chapter 7

I hear myself cursing, and don't remember why. I do see it, why someone would curse at a moment in which one would find himself quite like this.

So, I curse again, this time with full intent.

I do not know where I came from.

A place of departure. I move with too much speed.

Why? I ask. Why the clarity? Why do I feel so light, advanced, when the smell of soot and destruction accompanies me. Why am I equipped with power in a helpless path of rage?

I don't ask what the situation is I am in. It's self-evident. I brace for impact, unsure whether I will survive. Why do I find myself in this moment, if it could be over in a second? Why not remain unconscious?

Stoic, I take note how well insulated I am, when I crash into the guardrail. The horizon and the sky compete over what I will see on my landing. It is as if I am inside a slot machine.

As it flashes by, I see half of the sky behind me is littered with plumes of smoke and a trail I left on the street, like a feral jackhammer would. Am I the harbinger of destruction in this world?

Before the steepness of the hill, I come to a halt.

Like a dream state that guides me through a world I do not understand, I intuitively take control over the vehicle without questioning its nature too much.

I hold two levers attached to a moving console, and begin operating the machine.

Despite the high tech functionality of my enclosure, I cannot control gravity, and begin a careful descent, stumbling, trying not to unearth as many trees. Onward I must go, faster I must plow.

Concentrated as I am, I begin to take notice to the sound of the radio, and the words it emits, and the world it describes. One of curfews and mass panic. Of battles and losses. Of evacuations and disorder. The ongoing search.

A story of a hostile entity, and an apparent prison break. Witnesses that tell of an unstoppable mechanic monstrosity shooting over the road, bustling through obstacles.

Gradually, I come to the realization who I am. I breathe slowly, feeling the shock of what transpired, how it traumatized me. _Me._

And now I know what I am and always been. A monster, and now look at me.

I am searched, and I got a blessing and a curse, when hours ago I was certain of my death, when instead I got chosen to fight, geared up even for a battle no man should be ready for.

And I know why.

I have no fear. I am suitable.

Ashamed, I try to imagine what happens when I win. Will I be a hero?

I hope the urge to wreak havoc never returns now that I have the ability to do what I assumed my challenger came to do, even if it can rid me of this deep rooted shame I deserve to have.

Then again, isn't this power why I got cherry picked in the first place, taking no pleasure from having just helpless victims?

Cats don't just kill everything they see either. To them, it is a game, and a game isn't fun without a challenge. So here I am, hiding, protecting myself against what I had intended to inflict today... Unless... It... is on my side?

Deep into the hills I venture, escaping the inevitable, whenever it may strike, whatever it may be. I don't want to wait to find out who, or what might come after me.


	8. Chapter 8

I see a light pushing through the jumble of trees. It blinds me, so I slow down, as I approach the foot of the hill in my rapid descent. The light sweeps through the forest, and throws a diminishing beam on a small building. It's a motorcycle, I notice relieved. The driver gets off and enters the building.

I don't have much time. I must not stir suspicion. I assume my cold and calm, neutral, disarming attitude, and leave my vehicle behind a row of bush.

Just as I pace up to the road, a flash of light illuminates the environment. I know that's not my regular pursuers. I look back, to see a big splash of mud and dirt and chunks of trees jump up from the side of the hill, which shatters and shakes. I don't see what causes the impact. Whether it came from within the atmosphere or not, I know these are my last seconds, and start to run, as I see the ground coming loose and moving into my direction. And I realize that today, there are no coincidences.

Yet I do not fear. I must not. Not now.

I reach the public restroom and see the biker standing in front of the urinal. He seems occupied, talking to himself in disbelief.

"Who puts pickles on a burger?"

He turns around, his face looks pleasantly surprised. That's the thing with bikers. They're used to trembling and roars, they must have become desensitized to earthquakes. News all the same.

"Sir, the side of the hill has come loose in an apparent earthquake. There's tons of boulders and dirt racing in our direction. Get in the bathroom stall with your feet on the toilet bowl. That way we won't get swept of our feet by the landslide hurling towards us."

Luckily, the man takes my word for it. I could use somebody alive for a change. My plans would come whole soon enough anyway. I can resist the urge. I push the man to the closest stall, and I take the one next to it.

I could see the little window, as my head peaks over the divider. I can look down into the nervous mans cubicle. I hold my finger to my mouth and stare into his eyes.

"If you're silent we can hear it pass."

The man still looks up in disbelief with big eyes full of wonder. He must have had an adventurous night as well, ready to spew his anecdotes... Finally somebody to talk to... What more has this day for him in store?

"Put your feet on the toilet. I mean it, you don't want to get swept off your feet when the rubble passes underneath. On the bowl you're safe. Quick!"

I too was surprised to find somebody else at this place, at this hour. I had followed my intuition, and it had not only helped me get this far, it brought me to a sign of civilization. A bathroom stall on the side of the road. I am pumped with adrenaline. It can't take long before others show up. It could be a circus in as little as 15 minutes.

I see the moonlight in the window dim.

"Duck!" I hiss.  
We wait. I know there would not be an earth shattering roar, and the walls won't come tumbling down, and we won't be buried under a landmass. At least, not as immediate.

I know we won't be detected, and that we can come out soon as if nothing happened.

I know, because the predator first goes to see what his prey is made out of. If the prey uses all eyes, the predator will copy this. Surely it has eyes. At least eyes.

We would stand to see the mess outside and wonder what can destroy a hill in seconds. My chance would come.

Then, we hear two knocks on the door.

I didn't expect that. I expected to at least have the door knocked down or shattered to bits.

We wait. Silence.

I can't resist to look up and see a silhouette in front of the window. I take the gamble, to spy on what would pass by. If I get spotted, it's over. But I have to see.

To my surprise, it's just another person. A stranger, perhaps looking for the owner of the bike, confused and unsure what to do. I wonder whether he's alone. Whatever the case, I know this person is delaying me, and the danger that lurks outside.  
It must be a local, coming to see what all the noise and strange lights were. I still can't dodge bullets, so I must win his trust before it's too late. Before they find me.

"I think we got lucky."


	9. Chapter 9

I hold my hand out behind me as I look around in the door opening to stall the biker. This could very well be the last thing he sees of me. Or anything.

Then it is me who is stopped. The person outside has short red curly hair and the look on his face means business.

"He's here. Yautja."

The person whispers, orders me to be quiet. He gestures to approach slowly.

I do the same, and three of us huddle together, vulnerable, looking out.

"You killed my colleagues", the person whispers barely audible, but I was too mesmerized to hear it.

On the other side of the road, there's an enormity scavenging the bushes where I left the hybrid vehicle.

"Can you see anything?" The biker whispers.

"Shh. We have to get out of here. There's a barrage of missiles heading to this location. Gerry, can you drive that thing? We need to move fast."

Apparently, my companions aren't aware that the creature is standing right besides the vehicle. My eyesight must have improved.

"We all have to pay now because you didn't follow suit. This is your fault," the guy continues, "there was a plan to defeat them. We've been terrorized long enough. This is what happens when we don't sacrifice someone. They come for us. So when you lost control, you put us all at risk. In unexpected ways. You would have died anyway. But I promise you, if you get us out of here, I will see to it that you will receive humane treatment."

"What makes you think I'm human?" I try to whisper, but my voice also startled myself almost, because of how raspy it sounds. But then, we commence a deadly silence when an eerie, primordial croak emanates from the bushes.

I push my companions away hard as soon as I see a red light flash on, intuitively knowing what it means, and brace for the fatal blow. Nothing? Nobody, not even the creature moves, as we observe each other.

Oddly, the laser guiders shoot away from me when an orchestra of incoming rockets began. First silently. I could hear it, that means the predator heard it before me.

For a while, I stand to look at the beast firing, intercepting all the projectiles, which then begin to detonate in their trajectory, and a spectacle of mortal fireworks ensues. It is as if being in the middle of a thunderstorm, I think. Deafening blows, blinding explosions, and the air ablaze.

A rain of shrapnel punch on the predator's suit, resulting in an interesting display of sparks, as far as the sky didn't rain down enough to illuminate everything.

It ends, and the beast takes off to the sky as quick as it had landed. As strange as this encounter may be, I feel that I am beginning to accept my fate.

I have questions.


	10. Chapter 10

I dust off my companions. Red Curls fends for himself, gets up, and refuses my help. The biker complies and eases on his legs as my arms guide him.

Their stance is the same, both alert and bewildered, and their expression is contradictory. Red Curls looks at me incisively, the biker perplexed. Faces are fascinating, I realize, as I imagine how much better their expressions would look on each other, while their features even conflict when next to one another.

I stand there too long before opening my mouth with raised eyebrows. I feel to discover if they are still there, as I had not been cowering in the dirt, but dared to face the heat. Now, it is me who covers himself.

"My lifelong I have lived to do everything to prevent this day from happening. Now you _will_ listen."

"Calm your wits, Red Curls. Choose your moments to speak wisely." I walk to the machine, half buried under rubble, in the edge of the crater.

"Hey, wait just a second. Nobody here chose for this war. Like everyone, in every war. We _must_ deescalate the invasion."

I feel as if we are at the whims of their decision. If they wanted an invasion, we wouldn't be left here standing. They're just intervening. "Now you're like the metaphorical scatterbrain, let me tell you that", I reply, "trust me, I know the difference." I don't feel as proud of my joke as expected. "I know there is no point fighting. We will, but it won't matter. You seem to forget I _am_ here by choice. I don't know who's choice this is. Choices don't matter now our lives are not in our hands. We live because it was just chosen for us." I begin to study the machine. It looks like the armored truck that in a way has been crushed and deformed into very deliberate shapes to give it new functionality. I can't explain which, even though I do understand what I see.

"I _am_ fighting this, starting with you. And that is my choice."

I don't feel intimidated in the slightest. It is not that I feel this was Red Curls intention, I just know that I have changed, knowing there is something there hunting me, and that the old me would have reacted just now. So, I shut and listen.

"I know certain facts that come from decades of careful scientific and diplomatic effort. What we just sighted might frighten us. And it should. However, we have been able to defend against this invasive species for very long. We do something they don't understand: we study for the sake of it. We have intellect, it distracts them, intimidates them. They're many thousands of years more advanced than we are, except they're not adapted to culture and empiricism. What they know is battle and that is how they thrive. Not as contradictory as it sounds when we look at every animal we know. They're an ancient species, so even with our intellect we are severely impaired. The difference is, we like to use it." He pauses, and we listen. As I continue to investigate the machine, I notice Red Curls busy on his communication device. "Now, technically they are not at war with us, but that is because they don't understand peace, there is none to declare. These guys don't ask nicely. The truce we've sustained to prevent an invasion is very simple: we bait them. And, Gerry, you are bait." He continues to speak fast. "They would have made his planet their hunting grounds if we would have selfishly watched. But we chose to set our fear aside, and we were the first to communicate. Yes, pure luck, discovering their presence in our local void of the universe. Not only that, we would have ended the threat today, with you, our final sacrifice. They are always watching, and when we lost you, the Yautja must have lost his patience. The bad news is, gentleman, this intruder could even be the first of many more to come. Having been tracing you, the crisis and being the eyes in the sky, I am convinced this guy just came landing here, and it is his first visit."

"I never knew something so ugly could have such big aspirations. Not talking about you here kiddo. Which makes me wonder: what if I had complied?"

"We have been studying them. They don't exactly realize that we're sacrificing people to save our planet. I will spare you the painful process that led up to this conclusion. There's a causal reason it is so difficult to become an astronaut, it is to demotivate people to go to space. Ever find it peculiar that there are no qualified couriers and it's such a hassle, while everything else we send into the air is automated and commercialized? We have no business out there. Aliens aren't what you want them to be at all."

"What makes you think I want aliens to be anything?"

"See, this stuff keeps us human. Everything out there skipped that phase of ascension where we simply stop to think. But that's not the point, the point was that we intended to equip you with a weapon. There have been losses on their side, and since they're a species of warriors, they don't have an opinion about us killing one of them in a while. Like ants, a colony won't notice they miss a dozen."

I realize, the past day I've changed. Twenty years long I wondered what it is supposed to be like, to have empathy, a conscious. For the first time in my life I feel what somebody is saying makes some sense. "So?"

"All our effort went into researching a way to find their weakness. We found it. Now, you are a chosen by us to become a weapon of mass destruction. Not here, out there."

"I get to wipe out a population of aliens?"

"No, _would have._ Their every last specimen. You were the key to intergalactic peace. We are second on the food chain. We would rule and implement laws and trade. We had everything to end an era of terror. They may all be beasts out there, but they're not all after us... And you know what's the best part of it all? The truth would be told here at home, and the dark ages we're in would have ended. We prepared the world for it. They're ready." His eyes glisten, and his voice whimpers. "But not like this."

"Don't be angry." I put a hand on his shoulder, seeing how he fights tears. The sound of choppers approaches.

"Now you listen. You're coming with us and the plans will be carried out," he says, "we can defend ourselves here. You're destroying their planet."

It took me all the way to the chopper to realize I was once again cuffed. It felt like home.

A second chopper carries the machine and took after us. Another Red Curls accompanies us in the cabin. I can only imagine they are twins. I find myself amused with how they interact and work with equipment and words I never knew. After two minutes, I can't contain myself.

"Twins?"

Now the first Red Curls is calmed down and the second one holds back his slightly nervous and comical mannerism, they look identical. They nod their curls at each other, and back at me.

"Clones."

"The end of the dark ages...", I muse.


	11. Chapter 11

I don't feel the cold, I notice it. Time doesn't go slower, I just notice all the small things that happen. A blast on the side of the helicopter so severe, it barely sways, and the metal simply ruptures. What I think of as Death armed for battle, appears in front of me, catches me. I see that I cross a barrier I am not supposed to, light becomes dark, and fly in sudden silence. I am outside, watching the helicopter shrink.

Turbulent air beats me, and it becomes my enemy, when nothing of it enters my lungs. I'm not being sent into a different realm, I grudgingly realize, when the force pulling around my chest makes me change direction.

I can't even scream, and I nearly faint, when the wind in my ears stops, and I feel my normal weight again. We hover for a slight moment, where I gasp, seeing the toilet building, and the biker still, from above, before we plummet down from where I dangle.  
I smell it. It smells like fish, burned rubber and methane. It releases me. It skids away noiselessly, leaves me coming to my senses.

As I stand up, the ground begins to shudder and rumble. Slowly I turn around.

It is shaped like a droplet, Yautja's drop ship. Its segments rotate and its core appears to look at me. I feel drawn to the opening, resembling the beak of a giant leech, and despite its glowing and spinning orifice, tells me it is a comforting womb, and irresistible at it. It rises from the earth, a worm like composure, from the crater where it was buried. It enthralls me. It hypnotizes me.  
It tells me it wants me. It tells me it needs me.

I am one. The warrior. The chosen one. The ready one. The contender.

I must walk and climb into it. It will devour me, I reckon, but I trust it. I see me slowly approach, as a young would with its mother in an all forgiving embrace.

I dream that I live to be a full person. It is not a dream, I become it. I see the promise of a child with an undisturbed future. It is not a promise. It is gifted. The more I enter the light, the less I am connected with the earthly foundation. I hear its whirling cogs and spinning blades sing the song of healing. The light rinses me, my soiled body, my senses. In this gyrating cocoon I come whole.  
At last, I am.


	12. Chapter 12

It makes sense now. This thrill, I feel. This anticipation I have. I can't wake up yet. I am imprisoned.

I can see, I can see them, Red Curls and the biker stand there and they can see me. No, they see what I am, not what I was. I mean, what have I become? I buzz, and croak. I mean, we.  
 _We must_ _ **rejoice**_ _. No?_

We wriggle through the air frivolously, like a weightless worm. _**Goodbye**_ , I muse.

I must leave. I'm a dragon now. The metal sings when I go higher, I sing like wincing while I fly, I want to whir into the sky.

 _Difficult..._ We bank and convulse. I'm not a dragon. They duck.  
The other Red Curls is manning the hybrid truck, and a helicopter also watches us.

 _Not a battle vehicle._ _ **Protection.**_

Now we spin so fast we stretch to become thin. Metal rings around us deflect everything.

 _Stay._ We are a golden shimmer.

We hover, oscillating, becoming an axis.

Like ribbon, we are, we slide, flow, and slice the air. So quick, we are, we vanish.

Now I must sleep, to wake up to a new horizon, and my inner alarm clock is a tiny machine that will set their skies on fire.


End file.
